Poker with the guys
by AriesTaurus
Summary: It's poker night with the guys. Don brings someone new to the table.


A/N: I write two things. Heavy angst, whump drama or pure, neon pink fluff. This one is of the second variety. Eh. Enjoy.

This is a futurefic, so it may possibly end up AU....

* * *

"Don, you can't be serious!"

"Sure I am," he replied calmly, checking the front pocket of his leather carry-all.

"Josh. Poker night with the guys. Come on. You cannot be serious."

He closed the front flap and checked the main pocket. Nothing missing.

"For the nth time, yes. And Josh is a guy."

"But-"

"You need the rest. And I can handle it. If anything, it's the rest of 'em that'll be scared by Josh. I don't mind at all. It's my pleasure, even. Trust me. Take a bath, watch a movie in bed, _with_ popcorn, fall asleep and get some real rest. Besides, how often do I get to do this?"

Robin shook her head. "Popcorn. In bed. You'd let me do that? Mr. I-Freak-If-I-Find-A-Crumb-In-The-Bed?"

"Yep."

She smiled, disbelieving. "Okay. All right. It's your funeral."

"It'll be fine." He slung the bag over his shoulder. "Don't wait up."

"But- Don wait!"

"What, sweetie?"

"It means you'll be driving. No beer. That'll suck for you."

"So? Not the first time I had to. Besides, I don't plan on being back before the usual one or two AM, so I can have one, nurse it for a while and be completely sober in plenty of time to drive back. If not, I can call a cab or even crash there."

"But-"

"That way, you can even sleep in tomorrow."

"Yeah..." she said, a bit dreamily. "But..."

"I'll call Charlie. He'll pick us up."

"At two AM?"

"Like time of day's ever been an issue with him. Besides," he said pointedly, "_not_ an issue. One beer, maybe, and that's it."

"But..."

"Robin," he said firmly, looking into her eyes.

"Okay." She sighed, dropping her chin to her chest.

"Okay." He stepped forward and kissed her. "Get some rest."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Tell Josh I'll pick him up in a few."

"Will do. And call me if-"

"Robin."

"All right! Go already!"

* * *

Colby glanced up at the sweep of lights in the window.

"Hey, Don's here."

"Good, we can start this thing," David said, putting a bowl of chips besides the pretzels. A chorus of agreement sounded from the other three guys already dividing Poker chips. A couple of minutes later, a loud thudding sounded at the door, as if Don was using his foot to knock.

David wrenched the door open, smiling widely. The smile faltered and fell as his eyes fell on the sight there.

"Hey guys, sorry we're late."

"Ah, hi... You... Brought Josh..." David stuttered, backing up a step to let them in.

Don fixed him with a steely gaze. "Yeah. That a problem?" he asked, dropping his leather bag by the door.

"No, no... I'm just... surprised is all..."

"This _is_ guys poker night, right? Josh is a guy."

"Right. Course," David said slowly.

"Hey Don, hey Josh!" Colby greeted, walking up to them.

Josh obligingly returned the greeting with a loud, profound wail. Don placed the carrier holding his three-month old son on the floor and rubbed a soothing hand on his belly. "Easy kiddo," he said softly to the red-faced, screaming bundle.

"What's with him?" Colby asked, looking a bit concerned.

"Colic. Robin hasn't slept in three days. Figured I owed her a break. So I brought him."

"Ooo-kay..."

"Don't worry. He won't scream like that for long," Don said, freeing his son from the carrier's restraint and cradling him in the crook of his arm. "All he needs is Daddy's bouncing knee."

* * *

Don felt an ominous quiver, deep in his son's gut, travelling upward under his hand. "Hang on guys," he said, dropping his cards to the table and cupping his son's chin in his now free hand, leaning him slightly forward. A second later, a warm gush of curdling formula spilled over his hand, down the bib and onto his lap.

"Oops, got a spill there, guys. Colby, washcloths in the front pocket of my bag, get me one, okay?"

"Right."

"That is totally gross, man," David commented from his left.

Don lifted his eyes from his son to stare around the table. The three other men at the table wore identical expressions of horror. He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.

"Five FBI agents, working major crimes, that have seen countless murder scenes and baby puke grosses you out? Wait till you have to deal with the other end!"

Colby handed him the washcloth and he wiped his son's chin, his own hand and simply took off the soiled bib.

He put Josh to his shoulder and rose.

"Here. Hang on to him while I clean up," he said, placing his son on David's lap.

"But..."

"Sit him up on your knee, leaning back against your chest. Make sure to watch his head. If he starts to fuss, bounce your knee a bit."

"And what if he throws up again?"

Don placed the washcloth on the table in front of David. "It's called spitting up and you wipe it off."

He walked to the kitchen sink, biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud at David's terrified expression. He wet a paper towel and dabbed at the stain on his jeans before washing his hands thoroughly.

He was drying them on the kitchen towel when a loud, resounding belch erupted behind him.

The whole room erupted in laughter.

Don walked back to the table, finding his son babbling on David's knee, looking surprisingly relaxed, eyelids drooping already.

"That's all? That's why you've been keeping us up for three days?" he asked, grabbing his baby boy and bringing him up to eye level. He was rewarded by a soft coo. He chuckled and put Josh back on his knee as he sat.

Colby was the first to recover. "Man, I never, ever thought such a sound could come out of such a tiny creature!"

David nodded fiercely, holding his beer up in salute. "Yup, you were right, Don. Josh really _is_ one of the guys!"


End file.
